Rise from Darkness
by Syntax
Summary: A very dark take on Samus as a ruthless bounty hunter who struggles to come to terms with herself. Prequil to the Games, rated R for violance and language.
1. Introduction

DISCLAIMER: Samus Aran, Metroids, and anything else associated with it are used without permission. Everything belongs to Nintendo. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END OF THE STORY

A forewarning about content in this- theres gore, blood, swearing; all that loveliness. Don't read on if that type of stuff makes you queasy.

**Metroid: Rise from Darkness**

By Syntax

* * *

Black. 

Darkness.

Swimming in a place that you're not sure is real. Everything is surreal, everything in shades of gray. Lines are blurred into one another, melding all that is into a single unit. You try to move, but you are losing shape, fusing with that single unit. You fight- try to escape. It only becomes worse, and your thoughts drift into bleakness, your mind is slowly being twisted into itself.

Light.

Blinding, blazing, it hurts your eyes, makes your pupils burst into the whites as they slowly turn to jelly. It burns everything, and you try to turn away, but the light is everywhere. Blurred lines become jagged sharpness that rip you apart, and your brain is slammed back into your skull, shattering it into pieces. Shards of bone spill onto the ground that isn't there, and all you can think of is how much it hurts, and god, when will it stop?

She screamed.

The hoarse cry of pure terror echoed off the walls, and she shot up out of bed, screaming still as the few remnants of the dream clung to her. She raised her hands to still the voice that would not stop, and took in ragged breathes of recycled air. Swinging her legs off the side of her bed, she stumbled to the bathroom, splashing some cool water onto her burning skin, and slowly leaned forward, resting her forehead on the mirror. She opened her eyes to see two identical azure orbs staring right back. They were absorbing, frightening, hypnotizing almost in their intensity, and she brushed an errant strand of blonde hair that had fallen into her view.

Samus closed her eyes again, not wanting to look at the terrified eyes of the woman before her. She was afraid of a nightmare. Samus had no feelings, no emotions. Samus Aran did not get frightened. She did.

Samus hated her.

With a cry of anger, Samus punched the mirror, shattering the glass into a web like pattern that spread outward. She stared at her fist in a strange awe as blood trickled down her knuckles and onto the white ceramic of the sink. Small pieces of glass stuck out of the bone, and she systematically picked them out one by one, dropping them on the floor. Grabbing a shirt that lay nearby, she ripped a long stretch of fabric, wrapping it around the injured fist in an almost methodical way. She felt drained. Samus felt renewed.


	2. The Beginning

Samus snapped to attention, her mind sharp and focused. The previous night's little episode had been brushed aside. Samus had more important things to think about, not some silly dream. She glanced at the clock. Late. Running into another room, Samus opened the closed door to reveal her space suit.  
  
Rusty orange and gold plates of metal wrapped themselves around to form Samus' infamous armor. With more or less a loving glance, she slid into the torso piece with the large shoulders, upper and lower leg pieces, and tugged on the boots. Her left arm piece came on next, followed by her cannon on the right arm. She lifted her helmet atop her head in an almost ritualistic manner.  
  
The slim form of the woman was gone, and in her place stood a giant that towered some seven feet. The long cylinder that was attached to her right arm was ribbed at the end where the vent was, and a large round button lay on the other end, one she would press to arm the dangerous weapon. Armor covered her entirely, large shoulders that enhanced the look of strength, and the hissing of breath through her helmet. The machine that took the place of the woman was large, intimidating, and completely precarious.  
  
Samus glanced at the clock once more. Time for her date.  
  
Suited up nicely, Samus made her way to the main hall of the space colony's hotel. A cheery clerk smiled at her.  
  
"Did you have a pleasant stay, sir?"  
  
Samus grinned sardonically from beneath her helmet, the mirrored blue visor blocking the clerk from seeing her eyes.  
  
"Quite pleasant." Samus replied, her voice coming out mechanical and warped, and with a quick motion shot out her left hand, startling the clerk. She opened her fist to reveal the key to her room, dropping it on the counter. The clerk smiled hesitantly, and took the key.  
  
"Your ship is in docking bay four."  
  
Without a nod or a thank you, Samus turned on her heels and walked away.  
  
"What a creepy guy" the clerk muttered to himself as he watched Samus' retreating back.  
  
*  
  
Samus entered the bay where her ship was currently waiting. A gritty goldish yellow color, the ship stayed with the motif of Samus' suit, and looked like a strange version of her helmet.  
  
Leaping on top of her ship, Samus entered, sitting comfortably in the cockpit. Her appointment was in a bar, floating somewhere along the Aeris Galaxy. Pushing a button here and there, and pulling back on the control stick, the ship roared to life, and soon shot out into space.  
  
*  
  
Maxell Ballard sat patiently in a back booth of a place he wouldn't be caught dead in. However, he was quite alive, and waited for his appointment with the mysterious bounty hunter known only as Samus. The guy was supposedly the best in the known universe, and he didn't come cheap. But no one else would take up his offer, and Samus seemed like the only man for the job.  
  
Maxell stared at the filthy mug full of god know what, and decided not to risk it. Hearing the door open, he glanced up, spotting a figure in a yellow and orange suit. The figure walked straight towards him, gesturing to the barman. Maxell stared as the man sat in front of him.  
  
"Samus?"  
  
"Maxell Ballard" Samus stated. "A corrupt congressman who's trying to claw his way to the top, not giving a shit about who he fucks up in the process. Husband to Jana, father of Eriva and Nothrthel," at this Samus paused and chuckled humorlessly, "Love the names. Currently cheating on his wife with a nineteen year old student, and frequents his trips to Wally the pimp. Everything wrong in this universe, crammed into a little shit who calls himself a person."  
  
Maxell's absolute astonishment quickly turned to anger, but before he could voice his outrage, Samus interrupted him.  
  
Leaning forward, Samus hissed, "You should be happy I don't judge people's character." Returning to her former position, she continued as if having a casual conversation. "What do you need me to do, and how much of your piss soaked money are you gonna give me?"  
  
Maxell finally found his voice. "I don't need this! You can't talk to me like that!"  
  
Samus chuckled again. "I can do whatever I want, and say whatever I want. You still want the job done? Last I heard, I'm the only one willing to do it. And I'm pretty sure, I'm the only one who can."  
  
Maxell bit down any retort, and proceeded to map out the details.  
  
"The pay is thirty thousand. What I need you to do is a bit of exterminating."  
  
Samus made no sign of hearing, so Maxell continued. "Since you know everything about me, you also know I'm running for senate."  
  
Once again, Samus had no reaction, infuriating Ballard further. Wringing his hands, he attempted to level his anger.  
  
"Now, certain people know things about me, and are willing to use them to their benefit." Ballard shook his head at the irony in his statement, and behind her visor, Samus twisted her lips into a slight grin, "Well, you know what I mean. They need to be eliminated."  
  
Samus leaned forward on her elbows. "This is when you tell me the catch."  
  
Maxell fidgeted. "No catch. It's just that some of these people are hard to get to. That, and others have turned me down because of moral outrage." He looked up. "It's well known that you have no morals."  
  
Samus barked in laughter, her voice filtering through her helmet, and sounding horribly twisted to Ballard. A normal person would have been offended, but Samus wasn't normal, and to some, not a person.  
  
"I need specifics."  
  
Maxell reached into his jacket, pulling out an envelope. "All you need to know is there, along with five thousand in advance."  
  
"How cliché," Samus muttered, taking the envelope and removing the money, quickly counting it.  
  
Maxell stood. "I expect this to be done in three weeks."  
  
Samus tilted her head. "I'll contact you when I'm done." As an afterthought, she added, "Don't even try and find me."  
  
Maxell didn't want to think about the fact that the bounty hunter could find him so easily, and quickly left.  
  
Samus watched Maxell nervously push his way through all the tough looking men crowded in the tiny bar, towards the exit. She smiled to herself, and removed the contents of the envelope. Pictures, along with descriptions fell loose onto the table top, along with a typed sheet. She picked up the sheet, quickly scanning the words.  
  
She was to, as the sheet put it, 'eliminate six life forms'. Conner Spencing: male, age 35. The picture showed a serious looking man with dark eyes, and a smile that didn't quite reach them. Conner seemed like another Ballard. She would enjoy getting rid of the shit.  
  
Leslie Spencing: female, age 33. The all around housewife. Her face looked kind, but tired. Woman must have been through hell, getting mixed up in her husband's affairs. Too bad it would cost her.  
  
Cien Spencing: male, age 6.  
  
Samus paused. She was supposed to kill a kid? What did the kid have to do with anything? Samus looked at the photograph. He was a good-looking child, and had something his parents lacked. Innocence.  
  
Innocence. Samus had begun to think that the universe had rid itself of it. Innocence was a disease, a plague. Innocence would be the death of the universe. It's best to lose all innocence, before you begin to feel. It's best to harden yourself against the worlds. That was what Samus had taught herself to believe, what she wanted to believe. Quickly, she shoved the child's picture beneath the pile of papers.  
  
Ignoring her swirling thoughts and emotions, Samus continued to read over her targets. Jarred Manners: male, age 24. A very handsome young man, ambitious, and clueless about what he was getting himself into. The picture showed him with a million dollar smile, and a gleam of greed.  
  
Krystal Cavallo: female, age 21. In all respects, a whore who knows too much.  
  
Samus read over the targets once more. That was only five, where was the sixth?  
  
"Fuck." Samus shook her head as a sick feeling crept up. Cavallo is pregnant.  
  
Samus sat at the bar a long while, staring at the peeling green paint on the walls. She cleared her head of any thoughts, sort of in a deep meditation. To lose any sense of humanity she still had within her, and stood, gathering the information, and sliding them back into the envelope. Samus had to get to work. 


	3. First Kill

Jarred Manners loved life. More specifically, he loved his life. He had graduated in the top of his class, studying US Government. Manners grinned to himself. What better career to get into than politics? If you knew how to play the cards, it was easy living.  
  
He had his looks, had his career, and had his money. What more could a young man ask for?  
  
"Can I get you anything, Jarred baby?"  
  
Jarred grinned. Of course, there were the girls. What was this ones name? Olive? No, Cherry. Some sort of food, that he was sure. The bleached blonde leaned over him with a questioning glance, as if she thought something was medically wrong with him.  
  
"I'm craving some brandy, if you don't mind?" He answered, not trying to remember the name, and flashing a heart-melting smile. The blonde made some sort of squeak, and ran off to tend to his needs. More giggles and splashes emanated from the large indoor pool, and Jarred sighed in content.  
  
Samus watched the little scene play out with resentment. Manners was just too comfortable. She smiled slowly. Well that was about to change.  
  
He was smart; she'd give him that. The kid knew what he was doing, but just didn't know how far he was going, and how deep he got himself. Manners had lots of dirt on a lot of powerful men. Samus knew that if she didn't kill him now, someone else would later.  
  
Samus stood from her perch at the skylight, and let her cannon charge. As particles of energy gathered around the base to form a bright light, she aimed, and fired.  
  
Manners looked up in absolute surprise as the skylight above the pool shattered with a large crack that reverberated throughout the indoor pool like thunder. A large sheet of cracked glass rained down on the bikini clad girls, they shrieked in panic, as all of them scattered out of the pool. Many had large glass shards embedded in their faces and arms, while others had long gashes. All of them ran out of the house as Manners sat dumbfounded. Jarred stood up, staring at the now broken skylight, as a figure dropped down from the ceiling, and onto the edge of the pool. It walked towards him, standing a scarce few feet away.  
  
"Who the FUCK are you!?"  
  
"Jarred Manners." The man stated. Jarred wasn't really sure it was a man or not. The voice was mechanical, and it was wearing some kind of space suit.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing!? Breaking my skylight!? Breaking into my HOUSE!? What the hell do you want?!" Manners continued to rant.  
  
Samus grinned from beneath her helmet. "I believe that you have quite a lot of information on some people. Higher ups I might add."  
  
Manners stopped immediately. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"Information that would probably break these higher ups, where you can then have a nice open place for yourself."  
  
Manners' mouth now hung open a bit. He let out a quick laugh. "You must be mistaken. I think you want the next guy's house."  
  
Samus raised her cannon. "I was sent here so that information would not leak out."  
  
"Oh god." He uttered as the thought connected. Manners began to back away, his bare feet stepping on some of the glass spread on the floor. "Please, you don't need to do this."  
  
Samus stepped forward. "No, I believe I do."  
  
Manners shook his head. "No! What do you want? Money? I have lots of money! P-please! Y-you can't do this! I don't want to die!"  
  
Samus stared in disgust as Manners sank to the floor, pleading, tears springing from his eyes.  
  
"Don't kill me, ple-"  
  
Manners stopped abruptly, falling over onto his side as the large hole through his stomach gushed blood onto the floor, down and around the tiny pieces of glass, making them look like red gems. Samus stared at the dead body with disdain.  
  
"Stupid little shit."  
  
The blood had now pooled itself around him completely, soaking into his hair. Eyes that had once been bright with ambition had dimmed, and his mouth stayed ajar slightly.  
  
Samus stayed at that spot for a moment or so. He could have been better than this. He was still young, could have changed his life, turned it around.  
  
Samus jerked her head. Where had those thoughts come from? She hopped over the body, boots crunching the glass as she walked away, out of the house. 


	4. Second Kill

Samus stood, watching as young women sold themselves off the street corner. Some were barely in their teens, wearing ridiculous amounts of makeup to hide their youth. She scanned the several young women standing along the road side, calling to passing cars.  
  
One girl stood out, her stomach beginning to already swell. Her deep brown hair pulled into some sort of insane hairstyle with streaks of blonde that had been bleached out. Heavy mascara covered her eyes, lips painted with bright red, and not even trying to hide her obvious pregnancy, she wore tight clothing that barely covered her body. Samus shook her head.  
  
She crossed the street, walking toward the girls, now being able to hear with more detail.  
  
"..Looking for good.."  
  
"..Only fifty bucks for a.."  
  
"..Hey hon, want some.."  
  
Samus walked next to Cavallo, as she turned and looked with a sultry smile.  
  
"Hey there buddy. Looking for some fun?"  
  
Samus narrowed her eyes, "Not in the way you mean."  
  
Cavallo swaggered closer. "Really? I'd love to know what you mean. And what's under that suit." She animated this with a tap at the metallic armor, causing a hollow sound.  
  
Samus made a motion with her hand, gesturing towards Cavallo's stomach. "Are you sure you're in the right condition?"  
  
Krystal smoothed her hand over her stomach with a little grin. "Buddy, I can still do a whole lot without going the full."  
  
Samus let out a small sigh. What was this universe coming to? Girls who could have done so much in their lives were ruining it by whoring themselves for money. Samus wondered what Cavallo would have done, had she chose a different path in life. Would she have gone to collage? Became a lawyer? A cop? A teacher?  
  
Such a waste  
  
Cavallo impatiently stared at Samus with a hand on her hip. "Listen' mister, if you ain't buyen', I ain't sellen'.  
  
"What will happen to your child?"  
  
Cavallo stopped in mid turn, looking at Samus as if she were insane. "What the hell are you talken' about?"  
  
Samus pointed to Cavallo's stomach. "Your baby. Ever wonder who's going to take care of it if a customer happens to be a little angry, and vents this anger by killing a whore?"  
  
Cavallo widened her eyes. "I don't know what you're getten' at, but I frankly don't give a shit."  
  
Samus continued as if not hearing, "Will the child even be taken care of? Maybe it'll be sold?"  
  
Cavallo's bravado façade began to crack. "Hey, I know the risks of what I do." She paused, adding, "I need the money."  
  
"No, it'll just be left in a trash can. Maybe it miraculously survives? Then it'll be right where you are, taking your place. Would you wish your life on your child?"  
  
Krystal stayed motionless, then turned away. "Never."  
  
"You even know who the father is?"  
  
Krystal looked up with a bit of suspicion. "Yea, I do."  
  
By now, the other girls on the street corner had backed away from Samus and Cavallo. They knew when to high tale it, and the signs weren't looking to well.  
  
Samus walked forward. "What's his name?"  
  
"What's it to you?"  
  
"Oh I don't know." Samus replied. "Just curious. How about I take a guess, hmm?"  
  
Cavallo began to back away.  
  
"Something with an M? Mark? No, that doesn't sound right."  
  
Krystal was starting to get more than a little frightened.  
  
"Mary? No wait, that's a girls name isn't it? Silly me." Samus continued. "Ah! I know now! It's Max!"  
  
Cavallo backed up more, as Samus walked forward. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Max, well that can't be his full name, can it?"  
  
"Listen, stop this!"  
  
"Maxwell? Eh, don't think so. What if we drop a letter? Riiight, Maxell!" Samus went on, emphasizing the 'e'.  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"Ah, good 'ole Max. He's pretty high up, isn't he?"  
  
Cavallo and Samus were now alone, the street eerily silent as Samus continued to rant.  
  
Samus stopped, looking at Cavallo with pity. Cavallo looked back at Samus, her eyes wide with fear and humiliation, her face flushed and angry.  
  
Samus turned half away from Cavallo. "Its better this way" she said softly, and Krystal had to strain to hear.  
  
Cavallo stared at Samus in a strange fascination as her chest was blown out. She blinked once, dropping to her knees, falling face down onto the asphalt. Samus stared down at her.  
  
"Its better this way" Samus repeated softly. This way that child wouldn't have grown up in a hellish world. This way, the girl wouldn't have to suffer anymore. Samus shook her head sharply. What was coming over her? What was it to her if she killed some stupid whore? The bitch would have died soon anyway. Ripping a scrap of cloth from Cavallo's skirt, Samus wiped off the blood that had splattered on the front of her suit. She casually threw it aside as she stepped around the body. Samus walked off the street corner, mind blank, and emotions clear. 


	5. Enter Huston

Armstrong Huston needed a drink. And because of that, he was walking to his favorite bar, and from that, into another person.  
  
"Urk." Huston uttered as he crashed into another figure, getting the wind knocked out of him. The other figure backed up, and Huston could see that he was wearing an armored space suit and cannon weapon of a Bounty Hunter. The mirrored blue visor hid any indication of the other man's reaction, and that un-nerved Huston a bit. "Sorry," Huston managed once he had gotten his breath back. "I wasn't paying attention on where I was going."  
  
The man looked at him, or at least Huston assumed he was, and replied, "Not paying attention will get you killed."  
  
Huston raised an eyebrow at that, the other man stepped around him and continued walking.  
  
"Weird guy" Huston muttered. As he was about to turn the corner, Huston spotted someone lying on the ground across the street. As he neared, Huston jerked his head as his nose picked up the sharp coppery scent of blood.  
  
It was a woman, and from the looks of it, one of the prostitutes that hung around this street corner. Huston shook his head at the sight. Her chest was completely blown out to the other side, and judging from her stomach, she was pregnant. Huston wanted to be sick.  
  
The sight of blood normally didn't bother Huston. He himself had killed many things, just never innocents. Armstrong was in fact a bounty hunter, and he killed for money. But it was never really about the money. Huston really had no need for it. He did it in the satisfaction that he helped out a little. Battling space pirates for the Federation was very rewarding, even if the Galactic Federation couldn't really do it themselves, but that was beside the point.  
  
Un-deniably, Huston hadn't been a bounty hunter very long. He had been a Federation Cop for a little while, but the truth of the matter was, the Federation didn't do shit. He wanted to do something, be something, and the fantastic tales of these legendary warriors had always thrilled Huston.  
  
Looking back at the woman, Huston's gut clenched. It was a hard thing to acknowledge, that people could do that to one another. And that this world, along with the rest of those worlds, had never achieved that peace he so wanted. It was a sad sight indeed.  
  
Huston realized that he really needed that drink now. With a sigh, he turned away, heading for the bar.  
  
As Huston walked, he passed the large looming buildings of the city. They looked threatening and hostile, ready to spit intrudes out of their town. Seemed everything was angry these days. He passed an almost identical street corner as the one with the dead woman, filled with the same workingwomen, some even calling to him as he passed by. Not one of them deterred by the fact that one block away, their fellow worker was brutally murdered.  
  
The doors to the bar he was seeking for what seemed like hours finally rose up to meet him. As he swung through the doors, the atmosphere of alcohol and sweaty men attacked his senses. He spotted a woman or two trying to pick up a guy, and he made his way to a booth in the back, gesturing to a barmaid as he did so.  
  
The slick yellow plastic of the seats seemed to complete the look, along with a hanging pea green light, and dark brown tabletop. Hell, he loved this place. Huston glanced up to see that man he had bumped into in the booth next to his, speaking with another man. What a coincidence.  
  
Something didn't feel right. Samus looked to her possible future employer. She couldn't even remember his name. Thoughts hurt, and breathing seemed to be taking most of her focus. Something was wrong. She was wrong.  
  
The man continued to talk as Samus tried to make sense of what was happening to her. She shook her head a bit to clear out the muck, and the man paused for a moment, and soon resumed. Her eyes were tired. Samus wanted this to stop.  
  
What was happening? What was going on? It was all so wrong, so royally fucked up. Samus was getting the strangest sensations lately. Why is this happening? I don't understand. I don't understand! Why not? It hurts! It has to hurt.  
  
Stop!  
  
Krystal Cavallo, Jarred Manners. Two more victims to go with the others. To add to the collection. It never happened this way before. They're just two more targets. Two more ways to check if her cannon was still working. Why now?  
  
Darkness to lightness. Lightness hurts. Stop the hurt!  
  
"Samus?"  
  
Samus? Huston stared in awe at the armor-clad man who was sitting with his back to him. Samus, the legendary bounty hunter? Huston couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. The man did not exist. But there he was, sitting right there! Huston could not believe his luck.  
  
"Samus?" the future employer repeated.  
  
Samus looked up, alarmed, but the man couldn't see that. "Yea, I hear you. I'm currently on a job. When I'm done, I'll contact you."  
  
The man nodded, and Samus got up to leave. Need to get out of here, now, out, can't stay. Hurt, pain, can't!  
  
Huston watched as Samus slid out of the booth and walked past him. Armstrong wondered what the man was like. Some people liked to believe that Samus wasn't human, just a cyborg. No person could do the things Samus did. What did the man think about? Did he have a family? Was he like Huston?  
  
Huston then remembered the rumors about Samus. The man can do anything, but not always for the right reasons. Huston knew that Samus was dangerous.  
  
He needed to meet him.  
  
Huston slid out of the booth, leaving his half finished beer, literally throwing money at the barmaid, and ran out to the door to catch up to the legend.  
  
Panting, he spotted Samus a little ways down the street.  
  
"Samus?!"  
  
The figure turned to glance at him, then turned back.  
  
"My name is Armstrong Huston, and I'm a Bounty Hunter."  
  
Samus made no move to acknowledge his presence, but Huston was not bothered.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you. I overheard you and the man at the bar talking, and he referred to you as Samus. Well, I just wanted to know if you really are him."  
  
Silence  
  
"Well if you are him, it's really an honor to meet you. You're one hell of a Bounty Hunter. I find it a rare occasion that I could even see a legend like you. I've heard a lot of stories about you. Not all of them may be good, but they are impressive. I want to learn from you, and know how you think, what you think."  
  
Pain, pain, pain, pain  
  
"Sir? Mister Samus? Listen, I just want to have a beer with you, is that ok? Maybe you need to talk about something."  
  
Samus finally turned, and Huston felt a little jostle of nervousness. He had heard plenty about Samus.  
  
"I would rather not talk to some little fuck who calls himself a Bounty Hunter. Do you like the feel of killing? The money? The last thing you want is to get in my thoughts, so fuck off." The distorted voice echoed slightly.  
  
Huston narrowed his eyes a tad. So he had just been told off. "Sir, I would just like to talk. I'll talk at you, you don't even have to reply!"  
  
"That would just fuel my wanting to kill you."  
  
"Please-"  
  
"I'm very close to killing you now, don't make me, not now."  
  
Huston decided it was time to shut up, but he added, "If you need to talk, I'll be at the bar."  
  
He thought he heard a snort of amusement as Samus turned and walked off.  
  
*  
  
Huston stared at Samus' retreating back.  
  
The first thought Huston had, as the Bounty Hunter left was "What a prick." For some reason he continued to stare out, the night air crisp in his lungs. There was more to Samus. Something had struck him a little strange. What he said to Huston last. 'I'm very close to killing you, don't make me, not now.'  
  
He sounded a bit pleading, and in pain, something desperate about the way he said it. The voice may have been warped through the helmet of his suit, but Huston heard it. Armstrong lightly ran his hand through his hair, and turned back to the bar. He seated himself back in his little booth, the same barmaid returned with a 'back so soon?' statement.  
  
Huston sighed. He supposed he should call in that murdered prostitute. Damn Federation was slow on these types of things. Precisely the reason he had quit. Oh the monotony of it was physically painful! No one did a thing, corruption everywhere, it was pathetic. But he guessed that he did still technically work for them, just not through the same means. Best just call them.  
  
Asking for a phone, he dialed up.  
  
"This is the Galactic Federation Head Quarters, how may I direct your call?"  
  
Huston frowned at the cheery voice. "This is Armstrong Huston, I'd like to report a murder."  
  
"One moment Mr. Huston." The voice replied, bubbly attitude not tainted a bit.  
  
A couple of moments later, a gruff voice answered, "What the hell do you want, Huston?"  
  
"Hello to you to Harris."  
  
Detective Harris grumbled something un-intelligible.  
  
Armstrong tiredly rubbed his forehead. "There's a murdered prostitute out here on 47th. Just thought to tell you."  
  
"Shit. Fine fine, I'll be there." And with that, Huston could hear the dial tone.  
  
"What a delightful man." Huston sighed to himself.  
  
Huston remained in his stupor for a long while, sipping his beer as he idly thought of the nature of the living. He came to the conclusion that it was necessary for beings to be cruel and hurt one another. It was a balance, he decided. The good needed to balance out the bad, or there would be no existence. Very deep, he thought to himself with a snicker. But then Huston drifted to the thoughts of those in between the good and bad. They did exist, that he was certain, but those shades of gray threw off his little theory. What were the in-betweens for? Huston sighed, and decided not to ponder about the universe any longer. Besides, he was pleasantly buzzed, and thought about getting back to his apartment. It was pretty obvious that Samus wouldn't show. Well, he knew the man wouldn't show, but had a small voice of hope nonetheless, which was now beginning to fade.  
  
Huston stood, smiling at the barmaid whom he had grown familiar with, paid, and left. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Huston walked at a steady pace, passing street corners until he came upon the one with the murdered girl. The police had finally decided to investigate, and he could see Detective Harris looking over the body with an air of professionalism and interest.  
  
"Sir, this is a crime scene. You can't go any further." A Federation cop had stepped in front of him, and began leading Huston away, disturbing his observations.  
  
"No, it's ok. I work for you guys."  
  
The cop stared at Huston impatiently, a hand on her hip. "Do you have any ID, sir?"  
  
"Well, not exactly." The woman frowned. "I'm a Bounty Hunter."  
  
"Are you?" She replied with a bite of sarcasm. "Well that's real impressive sir, but would you mind getting on your way?"  
  
Huston sighed, but he caught Harris talking with another man.  
  
"I think we're dealing with the same guy here."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"The Manners murder. Had the same pattern of scorched flesh at the point of entry. This is the same guy."  
  
The voices trailed off as the pushy cop lead him away, and with a glare, turned back to the crime scene.  
  
The Manners murder? Huston had heard about that. It happened only yesterday, and was pretty big news. Jarred Manners had been a man obsessed with publicity. It had been quite a shock to the public when word leaked out that he had been murdered in his own home. Never get involved in politics, Huston reminded himself, and walked down the street, shaking his head in disappointment of just about everything. 


	6. Losing Reason

Samus stalked into the nearest hotel, her eyes darting around her. She stepped to the front desk, a cheery clerk behind it. Distractedly, Samus wondered if these hotel clerks were in some sort of cheery cult.  
  
"Hello there sir, how can I help you?"  
  
The clerk was a young man with tousled auburn hair and smiling green eyes. Samus had a sudden urge to rip them out.  
  
"I need a room."  
  
The clerk held his smile, despite Samus' rude behavior. "Is there anything specific, sir?"  
  
Samus slowly leaned forward, and the clerk began to hesitate a bit. Reaching out, Samus gripped the clerk by the neck, crushing his windpipe, and pulling him across the desk. The clerk collapsed to the ground, coughing pitifully as Samus kicked him harshly in the head. She bent down again, lifting the Clerk by his shirt. "I want to kill you, slit your wrists as you slowly bleed to death, then drive a stake through your head, so I can wipe that fucking smile off your pretty boy face." She then proceeded to blow his head off.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
Samus jerked her head, and the clerk looked at her with mild concern.  
  
"Just give me a room with a single bed."  
  
The clerk nodded, reaching around to pull out a key, typing this and that into the computer. "And your name sir?"  
  
She blinked for a second. Her name?  
  
After a long pause, the clerk spoke again. "Sir, are you ok?"  
  
"Yea, fine. The name is, its.." She shook her head a bit. "Samus."  
  
The clerk grinned uncertainly, and typed away. He handed the keys to Samus. "Your room is 42, sir."  
  
Samus snatched the keys, and stomped away, leaving the bewildered clerk behind.  
  
The walls were a painful white, and the carpet was some type of frantic design that she was sure was moving. Steady. Keep moving. Keep going. Don't think, don't dwell.  
  
Coming to her room, she inserted the key, stepping inside and shutting the door. Samus stayed in the dark room for a moment or two. She walked to the bed in the pitch darkness, removing her helmet, dropping it to the ground.  
  
She began to pace. The darkness was comforting. It was familiar, and she clung to that feeling as hard as she could.  
  
Step, step, step, step, turn.  
  
Blink  
  
Step, step, step, step, stop.  
  
She removed the rest of her suit, pieces of armor lying scattered on the ground.  
  
Thoughts, thoughts, they swelled and increased. Multiplied, grew. They battered in her skull, pushed, gnawed. She looked at her hands, trembling, closing into fists. Samus jumped as she heard something across the room, and she stooped to retrieve the cannon that had ended up on the floor.  
  
Slowly she crept, aiming the cannon with deadly accuracy. Coming around the bed, she dropped to the ground, rolled forward and prepared to shoot.  
  
Nothing  
  
With an irritated cry, she threw the cannon into the wall, making the plaster crack and fall.  
  
Fuck, fuck, fuck  
  
Her head was going to burst. Samus clutched at her temples, leaning down until her forehead touched the ground.  
  
Stop it! No. Why? This must happen. I don't understand! You shouldn't understand. It hurts! It must.  
  
No!  
  
Her brain was turning to mush, slipping out her ear, and onto the ground.  
  
She stared at the puddle of blood and goop that spread on the floor, reaching her knees. She shrieked, as the bloody mass rose to form a hand, then an arm.  
  
Samus backed away, the fleshy being rising up, pressing forward. It's empty sockets poured out blood, and ice blue eyes rose into them, plugging the blood from spilling further. The being opened its mouth, strands of flesh clinging and stretching, teeth growing from within the tissue as its throat gurgled. It rose to its full height, hair beginning to sprout out from the skull, and yellow strands matted with blood grew down to the shoulders of the man beast.  
  
Samus let out a choked cry of terror, as she stared at a woman who looked like she had the skin peeled off of her. The fleshy hands rose to her throat, and Samus clawed at them, sticky with blood and gunk.  
  
"P-p..le.a-se" Samus sputtered.  
  
The woman opened her jaws, letting out a roar, as Samus' feet lifted off the ground, then the woman burst, splattering Samus with blood and chunks of flesh, shards of teeth and bone. Samus dropped to the floor in a heap, soaked with her own blood, opening her mouth to let out a silent scream. Then, lifting her eyes, saw endless piles of bodies, some torn open with organs falling out, others mutilated, looking like piles of flesh. And the smell. Oh god the smell.  
  
Samus turned and vomited, looking at her puke as it mingled with the blood she was surrounded in. She stood, wanting to run, wanting to die. She turned to see her own dead corpse, half the skull missing, arms hanging on my mere threads, but eyes that blazed with blue fire.  
  
She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. The cold icy feeling crept upwards from her stomach. She shut her eyes, and collapsed. 


	7. The Spencings

Samus opened her eyes gradually, slightly surprised as the surroundings of the Hotel room and scattered armor met her. She rose slowly, assessing every inch around her, staring at the crack in the wall and the cannon that was on the floor beneath it. Samus placidly stepped around the obstructing pieces of her space suit, reaching for her pack, opening it to pull out some clothes. Quickly she dressed, and then turned to the mirror.  
  
Her appearance was strange. It was as if she were looking at another person. The woman had sandy blonde hair, tumbling past her shoulders. Her nose was sharp, and she had lines of pain along her forehead. The stranger in the mirror looked back at her, grinning nastily, reaching her hand out, as if to choke her. Samus jerked, stepping away quickly. She went out of the door hurriedly.  
  
Everything was dizzying, everything was moving in a circle. Samus clenched her eyes shut, leaning against the wall to catch her breath.  
  
"Are you ok, Miss?"  
  
Samus jumped slightly at the voice, whipping her head up to find the source of it. An elderly woman looked at her with concern.  
  
"You don't look so well, dear."  
  
Samus looked at the woman with absolute amazement. "I-I'm fine." The sound of her voice startled her, and she struggled to breathe.  
  
The woman looked at Samus, not believing her, but letting it slide. She shook her head, chiding softly, "You young people, all the same. Never listen. Remind me of my daughter, you do. The girl gives me ulcers."  
  
"I doubt it's the same," Samus replied darkly, finding her footing, and continuing down the hall.  
  
Samus passed the same green-eyed clerk in the main hall. He smiled at her charmingly. "Hope you have a nice day, Miss." Samus stared at him, then continued to walk out of the door of the hotel.  
  
The day was bright, sun beaming in all its glory, not a cloud obstructing its view. Samus breathed in, realizing that it had been a very long time since she had been out without her suit. The air seemed sweet, assaulting her senses, instead of filtered and dry. It was frightening.  
  
She walked briskly, passing people who paid her no mind. People that would have normally stared at her, quickly moving out of her way. She walked on, and everything appeared with a strange surreal quality.  
  
She walked out of the bustling streets of the city, onto more silent side streets. People were outside their homes, tending to gardens, or mowing lawns. The perfect picture of suburbia. Samus found herself looking up at a large school. An elementary school, in fact, the one where one of her targets attended kindergarten. She blinked a bit, as the building began to double. Her eyes stung like the devil, and she slunk down into a bench.  
  
A man walking his dog came to sit beside her, the dog curiously sniffing at her feet, whining, as it smelled something off. The man looked down at his dog with concern.  
  
"What's wrong, Buck? What's the matter boy?"  
  
The dog barked, and Samus had a sudden urge to roast it. She wondered what dogs tasted like.  
  
The man smiled apologetically at her. "I'm really sorry. Buck's normally a real happy guy. Likes everyone."  
  
Samus looked up at the man who sat next to her. He was quite the looker, had a slender build, a narrow face with high cheekbones, skin a tanned brown and hair a golden blonde. His eyes were a strange hazel color that seemed to change from time to time. They were very absorbing. Samus suddenly remembered that some tribes ate humans.  
  
"I'm Bruce." He said with another smile, offering a hand to Samus, who in turn looked at it if it were some kind of creature. Bruce's smiled faltered a bit. He laughed. "I'm pretty sure I have no lethal diseases. Well, last time I checked, I didn't." Samus made no move to reply.  
  
"Uh, are you waiting for someone?"  
  
Samus blinked, looking up at him.  
  
He chuckled to himself, running a hand through his hair. "Must be one of those beautiful, silent types."  
  
They would eat their enemies, believing that they could gain their strength.  
  
Bruce was not to be deterred, for he continued to speak, "So, what's your name?"  
  
Normally they would eat the heart, believing that all the strength lay in the organ.  
  
Samus hesitated. "Aran."  
  
Bruce smiled brilliantly, having gotten a response out of Samus. "Ah, so the fair maiden speaks! Aran?" He grinned lopsidedly, "That's pretty."  
  
They drank the blood to relish in victory.  
  
"Hmm. No more responses? I think that one word must have tired you out for the day." He rose from the seat, scribbling something down on a scrap of paper in his pocket. He handed it to Samus. "If you seem to think that you can manage to speak another couple of words, drop me a line." He smiled again, "Come on Buck, get off that lazy ass of yers," and walked off.  
  
Samus stared at the paper. She stuffed it into her pocket.  
  
The bell for lunch rang, causing Samus to look back at the school. The kindergarteners would go home at this time of day. She stood, watching as small children made their way outside, talking and giggling. One little boy walked to another bench, sitting quietly, waiting for his mother to pick him up. Samus walked up to him, sitting down besides him.  
  
"Hey there. Are you waiting for your mom?"  
  
The boy looked at Samus, large eyes full of curiosity. He smiled that carefree smile of youth, and replied, "Yep. She promised to take me out for ice cream after school."  
  
Samus smiled, her eyes dark. "Yea? That sounds like fun. What's your favorite ice cream?"  
  
The boy grinned. "Chocolate fudge swirl."  
  
Samus chuckled a bit at that. "Wow. Me, I'm partial to cookies n' cream. My name is Aran. What's yours?"  
  
The boy sensed that Samus' laugh didn't seem all there, but replied anyway. "I'm Cien."  
  
Samus stared off for a moment. "What do you want to be when you grow up, Cien?"  
  
"I wanna be a cop!" He answered happily. "Shoot all them bad guys." He illustrated by curling three of his fingers, and making 'bang bang' noises.  
  
Samus smiled wryly. "A cop? You want to kill all the bad guys?"  
  
Cien nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"What would happen, Cien, if you started killing people that weren't bad?"  
  
Cien looked at Samus skeptically. "Why would I do that? Cops only kill people who do bad things."  
  
"Not all the time," she muttered.  
  
"What do you do?" he asked, looking up at Samus, wide eyed.  
  
"Me?" She grinned. "I kill people, Cien." Just like I'm going to kill you.  
  
Cien raised his eyebrows. "You do? Are you cop?"  
  
"Not exactly."  
  
"But you kill bad people, right?"  
  
Samus looked at the boy, her face hard.  
  
"Cien!"  
  
Samus looked to see a middle aged woman walking towards them, her face worried. "Cien, what have I told you about talking to strangers?"  
  
"She's a cop, mom!"  
  
Leslie Spencing turned to look at the woman, who smiled forebodingly. "Well officer, I would appreciate it if you not talk to my son." The woman's smile turned to a wide grin. She was seriously scaring Leslie. Her eyes gleamed with insanity. Leslie shuddered.  
  
Samus watched as Leslie Spencing stared at her with the same look she was used to. Shit in your pants fright. She grabbed the boy by his hand as he protested, leading him away towards their car. Samus continued to watch the retreating car, as it sped away out of sight.  
  
Sighing, Samus looked around at all the other children. Little faces with bright eyes and virtue. She wanted them all to die.  
  
Standing, Samus began to walk again. Past the boys and girls playing tag, almost crashing into her. Beyond the school, into the quiet streets.  
  
*  
  
Samus looked up at the large, intimidating government building that her last target works at. Men and women roamed in and out, dressed in business attire, faces bland. Like hundreds of mindless drones. She wondered if any of them actually had any blood. Each of them probably thinking about how they could make more money, what would make their boss more money, and how they could later screw their boss over and take his money.  
  
Samus spotted him. The middle aged man walked out of the building, holding a cell pone, angrily talking into it with a snarl on his face. He was tall, dark, intimidating. His neatly cut black hair was slightly out of place, falling into his eyes, and he wore an expensive suit that probably cost more than some people made in a year.  
  
"No, Jackson, that is not an answer! I don't care how you do it, just make it happen!"  
  
With that, he clamped shut the cell phone, walking briskly away. Samus began to follow him.  
  
She looked on as he angrily pushed past wandering civilians, and his eyes gleamed with something that Samus recognized all to clearly. It was look of a predator.  
  
Samus watched in amazement as the snarl intensified, horrible fangs growing from his mouth, frothing and spitting up. His demon eyes darted around, searching for his next victim. His body continued to grow, splitting apart his Armani as grotesque arms grew from his misshapen back, grabbing an oblivious passerby. His eyes glowed with frightening delight as he tore into the civilian like a ravenous dog, ripping and shredding, flesh flying everywhere.  
  
He approached his car, and Samus quickly ran up to intercept him.  
  
"Hello sir."  
  
Conner Spencing looked with absolute annoyance, as a person planted himself directly in front of him. His eyes traveled up to see an attractive young woman. Perhaps his rotten mood could be lifted after all.  
  
"And hello to you," he replied with a smooth grin. "Who might you be?"  
  
Samus stared at the creature as he turned it's eyes on her, bearing it's teeth, long tongue snaking out between them.  
  
"Are you Senator Spencing?"  
  
"Yes, in fact I am. What can I do for a lovely thing such as yourself?"  
  
It's mouth opened, letting out a gurgle, blood dribbling down its cheeks.  
  
The woman grinned strangely, and Connor was suddenly overcome by a strange shudder.  
  
"I doubt you can do anything for me. But that whore last night certainly did a number on you, from what I heard."  
  
The snarl returned, eyes narrowed, burning as from hell.  
  
"What are you talking about? Listen, if you don't want anything, then get out of my way!"  
  
Samus grinned more, and she leaned in to whisper softly. "I'm sure you liked fucking her, didn't you? Too bad you're a loser in the sack. I heard the redhead had to act."  
  
Absolute fury, as the creature leaned back, ready to rip out her throat.  
  
"Listen you little bitch! I don't know what the hell you are talking about, and where you got this information, but if you don't get away from me, I will call the authorities!"  
  
Samus smiled widely, showing off her teeth, twisting it into a sneer. Connor was beginning to get more than a little frightened.  
  
"I'm sure your wife will get a kick out of it, and your little son." And with that, Connor pushed past Samus, hopping into his car and driving away hurriedly  
  
"I'll get you yet, you fuck."  
  
Connor was absolutely petrified. That woman looked at him with a glare that reached right to his bones. How did she know about the redheaded prostitute that he was ordering to be offed? She must have been bluffing.but that look!  
  
*  
  
Leslie Spencing looked up at the clock. It was nearing about nine, and Connor had just come home. Funny, he hadn't said anything about staying late at work. As the door opened, she saw her husband walk into their home, his appearance disheveled, and smelling of alcohol.  
  
"Connor Aaron Spencing, are you drunk!?"  
  
He looked up to her, his eyes glazed.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Nothen'. Jus' some damn broad." He replied after a long silence, his voice slurred.  
  
"Damn broad?" Leslie looked back at Connor, her eyes furrowed. Suddenly, a cold feeling clenched at her gut. "What did she look like?"  
  
He looked at her with a grimace. "What the hell is the difference? They're all the fucken' same!"  
  
Unable to get her husband to talk any further, Leslie let it drop. That didn't ease her discomfort, though.  
  
Standing at a distance, Samus looked on with a strange glee at the secluded house. Suited up and ready, it was time to strike. 


	8. Third to Fifth Kills

Samus glanced to the silhouettes of Connor and Leslie Spencing, obviously arguing. She grinned, looking down at the large hunter knife she clutched in her hand. She would have fun with this one  
  
Samus stalked forward, coming to the door, brushing her hand over the hard wood. The door opened it's millions of bloodshot eyes, staring at her. With a cry, she began to shoot them, one eye bursting into blood and puss after another. She kicked the door down, stomping into the living room.  
  
"What the hell was that!?"  
  
Samus glared up, as Leslie Spencing opened her mouth, letting out a shriek of terror. It reverberated off the walls, and Samus clenched her teeth against the sound.  
  
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" She screamed, blowing off her head. The spray of brain, skull, and flesh splattered onto the wall, leaving a pattern of blood that looked like a twisted type of abstract art.  
  
Samus walked forward, stomping her boot down on the corpse, shooting it over and over again until the body was no more than a pile of mush. The blood pooled around her ankles. The front of her suit became coated in fleshy grime, she angrily pushed it off.  
  
The demon creature stared at her; it's red eyes glowing with fury, horns now growing out of the torn and bloody flesh. Black fur matted with Leslie Spencing's blood, coated the side of it. It let out a cry of rage, leaping at Samus.  
  
Samus flinched, jumping back and away, flipping as the demon missed her, crashing into the wall. Tendrils of gore began to grow, wiggle and squirm, trying to grab at Samus' ankles. She brought down the hunting knife, severing off a tentacle that grew on the side of it's head.  
  
It screamed out in pain, leaping at her again. She swiped at its chest, a spray of blood spewing out to partly obstruct the view from her visor. It rammed into her, cracking the plaster of the wall, and she stabbed it over and over again, it's glowing eyes bursting, blood and yellow puss spouting out like fountains.  
  
It screamed, bellowed, clutching at it's eyes with the hands that had now turned into claws, ripping out chunks of flesh.  
  
She kicked it back with a yell, stepping on the hands that sprouted from it's back, sawing them each off.  
  
The blood wasn't stopping. It flowed on and on. It growled, still not dead, and she screamed out in fury, kicking it cruelly, over and over again. It stopped, and she hacked at it more.  
  
The living room was painted with red. It was raining blood, and Samus relished it. Fleshy tissue and bone settled around the floor, completely mutilated, not recognizable. Samus turned.  
  
Cien Spencing looked at the living room draped in his parent's blood with eyes wide and full of terror. A squeak escaped him, and a puddle of urine formed through his pajamas, down about his feet, mixing into the blood. He looked up at Samus. She raised her cannon and blew out his entire upper torso, his head rolling beside the body, soaking in the red.  
  
Samus dropped her knife.  
  
She stared at the corpse of the six-year-old child that she had just killed. She turned fully around, taking in the bright crimson.  
  
Samus lifted her helmet off of her head with a hiss of air pressure, dropping it to her side to settle next to the knife.  
  
The absolute vomit-inducing stench of death, filth, and terror; the forceful odor of coppery blood, raw flesh, all assaulted her in a mad frenzy. She continued to stare at all of it blankly.  
  
Samus cracked a grin.  
  
She turned a full 360, taking it all in.  
  
Her grin turned to a smile  
  
A snicker escaped her lips. She raised her blood-covered hand to cover her mouth as she began to laugh. Her hand drifted to her side, leaning on the brain-splattered wall as laughter battered her, turning into a maddening cackle, so intense that she couldn't breathe. She sunk to her knees, shoulders shaking, tears streaking down her face as she continued to laugh.  
  
Her hands rose to the sky, laughing still, surrounded in a pool of scarlet liquid. Her sides began to hurt, and she leaned down, wrapping an arm around herself. She abruptly stopped, snapping her head up, whipping it around to see a man gasp, put a hand to his mouth, and vomit. She grinned, giggling.  
  
Huston was on his knees, retching and coughing. He looked up, the bright red completely encasing the white. The corpse of a little boy was but a yard from his feet, and looking at the severed head, he turned and let out a choked sob.  
  
She was laughing.  
  
He stared at her, as she dragged her hands in the sticky blood, laughing insanely, and Huston wanted to run. He wanted to be anywhere but here, anything but looking at the horrible wreck of a person. Huston was immensely afraid, but he walked forward, gagging un-intentionally as he stepped on a fleshy mass. His mind screamed at him to run, but he walked on, slowly.  
  
Huston stood next to Samus. He was going to die, he was sure of it, but he continued to reach out, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.  
  
Whether it was the human contact, or a sudden realization, Samus for the first time in her life, cried.  
  
Tears flowed freely, clearing out paths of dirt and blood, and she sobbed brokenly. She cried for every innocent life she had taken, she cried for all of her sins, and she cried for the horrible fiend she had made out of herself. The non-feeling beast that bathed in blood.  
  
After a long while, Samus' sobs quieted, and she looked around her with a look of a lost little girl.  
  
Huston became startled when Samus spoke, her voice shaky and hoarse, "Do you know what death is?"  
  
Huston didn't remove his hand from her shoulder. "What?"  
  
Samus repeated, voice now monotone. "I said, do you know what death is?"  
  
Huston wasn't sure what to say, how to respond, if at all.  
  
She turned her head to look him in the eye when he didn't reply, her blue gaze raging. "Death," she said with a disgusted voice, "Is fear. Fear is hell. Hell is life."  
  
Huston shook his head. "I don't understand."  
  
She grinned scornfully, "You aren't meant to."  
  
Huston looked at her. "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm death."  
  
"I want to understand." Huston pleaded, "Help me understand."  
  
"How can you understand if I don't understand!?" She yelled. "I never wanted to become this! I don't know what I am!"  
  
"You're a person. A woman with thoughts, emotions, feelings."  
  
Samus shook her head slowly. "No. I'm not a person. I don't feel. I'm a monster. I kill."  
  
Huston dropped to his knees. "If you have no feelings, why did you just cry?"  
  
"Because I became weak!" she snarled. "I let the feelings get too intense!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
Samus flinched at the word, as if she'd been hit. That one word meant so many things. All the questions that she asked herself everyday.  
  
She turned away.  
  
Huston stared at her. "There is a person somewhere in there. There is a spark of humanity in you, of civility. Under all that darkness, there is light."  
  
"Light is pain"  
  
"Becoming light is pain."  
  
Samus clenched her teeth. She stood rapidly, grabbing her helmet, and turning to leave. Stopping, she turned and said to Huston. "If you follow me, I will kill you."  
  
Huston watched with sadness as Samus stormed away from him a second time. He shook his head, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. 


	9. A clear mind

Samus walked without thought. Her mind was clear, but her emotions were flailing rapidly, breaking out of the tight corner she had trapped them in. She hurt so much.  
  
Samus wiped off the beaded blood with a scrap of cloth, streaking across her visor to remove the liquid that concealed half of her sight.  
  
She walked through the hotel door, the green eyed clerk gone, replaced by a tired looking woman. She walked through the freshly painted beige halls, into her room. Samus removed her helmet.  
  
Her head hurt. She grabbed her forehead as the sharp points of pain drilled into her skull. Samus stepped into the shower, her suit still on with helmet in hand, opening the spray to wash away the traces of gore, the dirt, and to mingle with the tears that spilled so freely. She wanted to clean off all the filth.  
  
Stepping out, Samus removed the rest of her armor, lying down on the single bed, letting her eyes drift shut.  
  
She was back in the darkness. She couldn't see, it was thick, and she breathed in the blackness, filling her lungs. She couldn't move her hands.  
  
Samus was terrified. She knew what was to come.  
  
The light hit her with a force unsurpassed. Her face was set on fire, flowing into her mouth as she screamed, charring away at her insides, setting her soul aflame. It hurt so much. She sobbed in pain as her head exploded inwards, and her mind was crushed in on itself.  
  
She dropped to the hard white ground, looking up and blinking rapidly. The Light was everywhere, and so bright she couldn't see her hands, but felt cool and level.  
  
*  
  
Samus snapped open her eyes, looking around slowly. She felt calm, and it was the strangest feeling she had ever felt.  
  
*  
  
Armstrong Huston ordered another beer. The friendly barmaid looked at him with concern.  
  
"Hon', are you all right?"  
  
Huston looked up. "It's not me that not all right."  
  
The barmaid cocked an eyebrow. "Sugar, I think you've had a bit too much to drink"  
  
"I'd have to disagree"  
  
She shook her head, walking to tend to another customer.  
  
Huston wasn't sure what to make of Samus. He was disgusted, intrigued, curious, and sorry for her. But he still wasn't sure what was the right emotion.  
  
Samus was a woman  
  
That in itself was a startling discovery, but what he saw of the woman that cried in all that blood made his heart ache.  
  
She was insane. She was a mystery. He wanted to help her.  
  
When Huston had called in the federation to the Spencing's home, most every cop had reacted exactly as he had by vomiting. Huston knew who did the murders, but just couldn't bring himself to turn her in. He still didn't know what he felt.  
  
Huston thought he heard clunky footsteps, and someone sit at the stool next to him.  
  
"I doubt getting drunk is going to help any." A warped mechanical voice pulled Huston out of his musings.  
  
Samus sat next to him in her suited glory.  
  
Huston blinked. "You know," he began, "Space pirates are becoming a real problem lately."  
  
Samus tilted her head.  
  
"There's this whole frenzy going on about a particular group that they need the best bounty hunter for."  
  
"Why are you telling me this?"  
  
Huston shrugged. "Not sure." He turned to look at what he guessed were her eyes, "I'm not sure what to make of you."  
  
"Neither am I."  
  
Huston took a sip of his beer. He turned to face her again. "Ever hear of Metroids?" 


	10. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

I've decided to write this little addendum for several reasons, the foremost being as a purely selfish note of apology/explanation for the severely crappy quality of this story. If you really don't care to know the background on this, then just skip this little note.

Rise from Darkness was my very first Metroid fic, and one of the first fanfics I ever actually wrote. Time has not been kind to this story, as the writing is severely lacking and the plot is neither original, nor all that good. I also don't find that the almost cartoonish levels of violence and vulgarity play out well. I was only fourteen when this was written, and it is very very obvious.

So why all this hate for my own fic? Lol, I don't hate this story, not at all. It holds a very special place for me and was a very significant step in the way I approached writing. But it has deep flaws, and I want to address those flaws directly by saying that it was merely because of the time it was written. This was most likely the fastest thing I ever wrote, but something I knew exactly where I was going with and how I wanted to pull it off. That is a complete rarity for me. If any of you have looked at the other stories archived here, they're either unfinished, or rather short. The idea of an unstable and very dark characterization of Samus appealed to me, and at that point, it had never been done before.

Obviously it has been done since, and much much better. The archive here has grown by leaps and bounds, and many other writers have put their mark on the fandom and have written seminal classics. This thing is like a crusty and senile old man in comparison to the youthful, fresh kids out there today (lol).

The story you just read is not in any way different from the original posted all those years ago. The only thing I've done is fixed some rather painful grammatical and spelling errors, though I'm pretty sure I haven't caught all of those either. My characterization of Armstrong Huston was completely different than his appearance in the Nintendo Power comics. This was because at the time I wrote this, I had only read the comics once and couldn't substantially remember anything about his personality. I used him because I needed an outside perspective of Samus, and I needed someone slightly familiar to the reader rather than an OC because I doubted my ability to have a compelling enough character to be the reader's stability in the face of Samus's madness. Canon since then has grown as has the cast of characters in the Metroid universe, but there really weren't any other humans other than Samus back then, and the comic was the only source I had.

Though I had given a lot of consideration to giving this a rewrite, it was frankly pointless. There is no way I could rewrite this to any level of quality, and I like it just the way it is in its completely shitty form 

If you still enjoyed it, then I'm beyond happy that this story can still resonate with readers after all these years. To all the people that have reviewed this, and those I've talked to through email, I'd like to give you a special thanks because the support you showed a fledgling writer was a fantastic feeling.


End file.
